


Mine Now

by Lucy_Ferrier



Series: Clichés [2]
Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26928715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucy_Ferrier/pseuds/Lucy_Ferrier
Summary: It should have been easy enough to tell which clothes were his; Toby’s clothes were loose and casual, an otherwise unassuming pinstriped brown and nothing at all like Adil’s tailored cream and black uniform.
Relationships: Toby Hamilton/Adil Joshi
Series: Clichés [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964836
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	Mine Now

**Author's Note:**

> based on: "2. Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn’t help but steal it"

Work had kept him back late and called him in early too many mornings that week, and the sudden sleep-in left Toby bleary eyed and disorientated as he rolled out of bed, Adil still half asleep beside him. And though he would be more than happy to blame work for this morning’s tardiness, Toby was truly a terrible liar.

He didn’t allow himself to wake up properly before Toby was reaching for whichever clothes he came across first; both he and Adil had left an indirect trail between the door and the bed, and Toby could already picture Adil swearing at the creases in his jacket. It had been a careless thing to do, but it wasn’t the first time they’d stripped each other off in a hurry, clothes being pushed down and off without a single thought of tomorrow or consequences in general, and Toby very seriously doubted it would be the last time they ever did.

It should have been easy enough to tell which clothes were his; Toby’s clothes were loose and casual, an otherwise unassuming pinstriped brown and nothing at all like Adil’s tailored cream and black uniform. And the trousers _were_ easy enough to pick out; Adil’s stark black contrasting significantly more than Toby’s brown on the dull carpet in the early morning light. But both of them wore more or less the same coloured off-white shirt, and at eight in the morning, it didn’t occur to Toby to check for a collar until he’d pulled it on.

The fabric was soft and worn, the elbows just beginning to hint at being in need of patching, and Toby bit his lip, looking over at Adil. Adil was only just beginning to sit himself up, fringe flopping in his eyes and looking thoroughly unimpressed with being awake. They hadn’t been able to spend much time together, alone and not entirely exhausted, in over a week, and Adil’s shirt smelt like his cologne and the barest hint of sweat, and Toby was already homesick with the thought of another week of being overworked and apart. He thumbed at the neckline, watching as Adil blinked awake, watched the way he sighed heavily when he realised that yes, it was morning. Toby continued to run his teeth over his lip, looking back down at himself. Surely Adil wouldn’t mind much.

The buttons only strained a little when Toby did them up; all of Adil’s shirts were a little loose too, and Toby tried not to frown at the thought as he removed the sleeve garters. The lack of collar was a little more pressing, but he was sure he had something somewhere that could pass for casual, already hunting through a draw when Adil’s brain finally caught up with him.

“That’s _my_ shirt.”

The sheets were twisted haphazardly around Adil’s waist as he sat up, singlet askew, one strap falling off his shoulder. His outraged look was ruined entirely by the way he blinked sleep from his eyes, hair loose and falling into his eyes no matter how many times Adil pushed it back.

“ _Toby._ That’s _my_ shirt,” he reiterated, in case Toby hadn’t heard.

“I know,” Toby hummed in agreement as he continued to dig; it was becoming increasingly likely that he wouldn’t be able to wear a suit shirt without drawing attention to himself, but Adil’s indigent protest was more than enough for him to double down on the idea.

Adil dragged himself out of bed at that, stalking up to Toby, who only blinked innocently at him before returning his attention back to the drawer. Adil glared at him with an exaggerated pout, wrapping his arms around himself, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he was standing in the middle of the room in essentially his underwear, winter having not quite left London just yet.

“I _need_ that,” Adil emphasised his point by poking Toby sharply against his shoulder, causing himself to sway slightly when Toby didn’t budge.

Toby shrugged, not looking at Adil properly. He finally pulled out an acceptable collar, and a tie that would do a fairly good job at hiding where it would button to the shirt. “You can just wear mine you know. _I_ don’t mind.”

“I cannot. I have work.” Adil jutted his chin out at him, seeming to think that was a solid enough argument. The circles under his eyes were dark enough in the muffled light that Toby almost felt bad for not having convinced him to sleep more the night before. He wasn’t the only one being overworked in wartime, most of the younger barman already having signed up to play soldier.

Yet Toby still found it endlessly endearing that Adil was even less of a morning person than he was; it made sense, seeing as Adil worked to bar until well after midnight most days. While Toby would groan and drag himself out of bed, Adil would remain clingy and grumpy until it was well past when they both should have left the room, always that much happier when they both had a day off and he could wake up slowly, wrapped up in and around Toby.

“No one will be able to tell. Here look, if you take a dinner shirt instead of the one on the floor, and then once the bib and collar go on you won’t even be able to see the shirt.” Toby pulled a clean shirt out of the wardrobe, nearly throwing it in Adil’s direction before thinking better of it, and laying it out on the bed instead. It seemed needless to crease another shirt when Adil inevitably didn’t catch it, either out of spite or because he wasn’t awake enough to.

Adil gave him another sulky look, this one more exaggerated and theatrical as he began to wake up properly, pouting up from behind his fringe and under his eyelashes, brain clicking online and ready to tease Toby right back.

“Everyone can see _yours_ though. People will talk. You never wear fitted shirts,” Adil raised an eyebrow, a smirk beginning to form in the corner of his mouth. He eyed Toby’s chest, not yet covered up with a poorly fitting jacket and a loose waistcoat. “You look practically indecent.”

“And wouldn’t you just _adore_ that.” Toby rolled his eyes. “I’ve already buttoned it up. Definitely too late to take it off now.”

“Toby. I love you. Give me back my shirt.”

“Nope,” Toby grinned toothily at him, stepping out of reach when Adil went for the buttons. “Mine now.”

“ _It doesn’t fit.”_

“If I can do the buttons up, which I can, then it fits.” Toby slung his suspenders up over his shoulders, reaching for his waistcoat, tie still loose around his neck. He ducked out of reach again when Adil lunged at him again, chasing him across the room.

“ _Toby,_ ” Adil whined. His feet were beginning to numb against the carpet, goosebumps breaking out across his limbs as he stared up at where Toby was now stood on the top of the coffee table. Just to add insult to injury, Toby then reached up on tip-toe, swaying slightly when the table dipped beneath his weight, eyes wide in faux-panic as he pretended to be intimidated as Adil tried vainly to fight down his grin. 

“Just wear mine!” Toby protested, half falling off the table, landing on his feet behind it.

“It doesn’t fit! Look at me Toby,” Adil stalked back across the room and grabbed Toby’s shirt off the bed, pulling it over his head without undoing any additional buttons. “It comes down to my knees!” he cried, glaring at Toby across the room.

It was something of an exaggeration; truthfully, the hemline fell to roughly Adil’s midthigh, though it was well past the end of his shorts. The shoulders hung low on his arms, the sleeves hanging well past the tips of his fingers, even as Adil attempted to bunch the sleeves back up around his wrists before giving up. He stood with his arms outstretched to emphasis his point, giving Toby a pointed look as he gestured to himself. Toby’s face softened. Adil wasn’t _that_ much shorter than him, but standing there in Toby’s untailored shirt he looked _tiny._

At Toby’s expression, Adil screwed his nose up at him, huffing grumpily with put-upon sulkiness. “Stop looking at me like that. It’s not cute.”

“It is a little bit cute,” Toby strolled up to Adil, grinning at the way he looked in the far too big shirt. “Only a little bit I promise.”

Adil sighed, falling bonelessly against Toby’s chest, resting his chin against his collarbone as he stared up at him. “You’re a nightmare.”

Toby gave him a pleading look, blinking down at him. “Please? Just this once?”

Adil sighed, wrapping his arms around Toby’s waist and tucking his face against the crook of his neck, wondering idly if maybe he should just go back to bed. “ _Fine._ Where did you put my sleeve garters?”


End file.
